


to market, to market

by ATMachine (orphan_account)



Series: Pirates of Anoat [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 05:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ATMachine
Summary: The Millennium Falcon’s escape from Hoth doesn’t go as either the Rebels or the Empire expected.An Empire Strikes Back AU fanfic.





	to market, to market

“It’s quite simple, Princess.” Ali Tavira, pirate queen of the Outer Rim, reached for her glass of Corellian wine. “I intend to sell you and your companions to the highest bidder.”

The impromptu dinner party aboard Tavira’s frigate, the _Gray Vulture_ , was one Princess Leia would rather have refused to attend. But they had no choice.

With the _Millennium Falcon_ ’s hyperdrive damaged during the escape from Hoth, it was only capable of making short jumps – and Ali Tavira’s pirates had found them during one of the cooldown periods between hyper-skips. Now the _Falcon_ was in the docking bay of the _Gray Vulture_ , and its passengers were unwilling guests at Tavira’s table.

“And who do you expect that to be?” Leia asked.

“The Empire, most likely,” Tavira replied, then drained her glass. “They have the deepest pockets, after all. And I hear Lord Vader is eager to renew his… _acquaintance_ with you.” Leia paled. “But they won’t be the only bidders. I’ve already sent word to the Rebel Alliance about your predicament, so they’ll probably get involved as well. But since they’re so cash-strapped, I don’t expect them to bid on all of you… probably just the Princess, or her gallant smuggler friend as well if they’re feeling generous.” She threw a nod in the direction of Han Solo.

Chewbacca roared a defiant, angry growl of considerable length. “Yeah,” Han said. “Listen, sweetheart, it wouldn’t be wise to separate me and Chewie. Where I go, he goes. I don’t know if you speak Shyriiwook, but what he just threatened to do to anyone who tries I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

“How touching. But I’m afraid he won’t have a choice.” Tavira picked up her knife and fork and cut into her roast sjorzbik. “We’re the ones with the guns, after all. He’ll just have to put up with whatever we tell him… unless he wants his precious human splattered all over the decking.”

Leia glared at Tavira, and one of the platters on the dining table quivered.

“You know, Princess, I like that color on you.” Between bites of sjorzbik, Tavira gestured at Leia’s gown of pale blue shimmersilk, a “gift” from the pirate captain to her most important prisoner. “Matches your eyes, and goes well with your hair.” She let her gaze linger on Leia’s elaborate brown braids.

“But the truth is, I don’t know who will come out tops in the bidding. I’ve also sent notices to the major criminal syndicates: Black Sun, Goldensword, and the principal Hutt cartels. They’ll probably pay a pretty penny for the chance to deflower the last princess of Organa Major. You _are_ still a virgin, yes?”

Leia’s cheeks went hot with a flush of embarrassment.

C-3PO, who had an empty plate set before him for the sake of decorum, piped in. “Actually, I believe—”

“ _Shut up, Threepio_ ,” Leia said through gritted teeth.

“Ooh! Who was the lucky man?” Ali Tarrak grinned wolfishly. “No matter. It might reduce your price among the criminal syndicates, but that’s all to the good. Maybe your Alliance friends will be able to buy you back after all. Assuming they can outbid the Empire, that is.”

Leia’s ice-blue eyes glared hatefully at Tavira.

“If the Empire does win you, they might execute you for treason… but I doubt it. You’re far too skilled an asset to waste. More likely they’ll try to turn you, get you on side.”

“I’ll _never_ join the Empire.”

Han Solo’s wine glass began to rattle.

“But of course you would, my dear. They have ways of making everyone join them in the end. Perhaps they’d make you an Imperial officer… who knows, even a Sith Lord. And you’d make a wonderful Sith, Princess. All that anger, so poorly contained. I’m sure they’ll have you blowing up planets in no time.”

The knife at C-3PO’s place setting leaped into the air and stabbed Tavira in the eye.

The pirate queen screamed and fell to the floor, clutching at the knife in her bleeding eye socket. She pulled it out, then grabbed a handful of napkins from the table, holding them to her wound to stanch the bleeding.

Leia, jaw agape, sat at the table, trying to process what had just happened. What she had made happen.

Guards rushed in with blaster rifles drawn, pointing at the unwilling dinner guests. “UP! Get up!” the pirates shouted, and the prisoners stood from their chairs, hands in the air.

One of the guards offered his arm to Tavira, who took it in her free hand and pulled herself up weakly. Blood dripped down her face, staining her clothes, from behind the napkins held against her ruined eye.

“Are you all right, captain?” asked the guard at Tavira’s side.

“Get the autodoc droid ready in sickbay. I’ll be there momentarily. Take the prisoners to separate holding cells.” Tavira smiled grimly. “…Except for the Princess.”

Hands grabbed Leia’s arms roughly and pinned them in arm-cuffs behind her back.

“I think our guest here needs to be taught a lesson in humility.” Tavria pointed at Leia. “Do what you like with her, as long as she’s alive afterward. And pay special attention to her face. After today, every time she looks in a mirror, I want her to remember me.”

Leia screamed and struggled against the guards’ grip. She counted them in her head: twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…

_Oh no._

Tavira laughed, turned on her heel, and walked out of the room with as much poise as she could muster. Once out of sight with the door closed safely behind her, she staggered against the wall, then began making her way to the sickbay.

She wondered what would most intimidate captives: a droid eye, an eyepatch, or just leaving the empty socket uncovered? She’d have to give it some thought. Keeping up appearances was so central to one’s reputation in this line of work, after all.

In the distance, Princess Leia’s screams echoed faintly off the bulkheads.


End file.
